The Death Mask Murders

by Gabriel Farago

  Lapointe walked quickly from room to room. All were empty. It was obvious he was looking for something. Remembering what was in the cipher, Jack suspected it was stairs leading into a cellar. He was right. Lapointe stopped at a set of narrow stairs and trained his torch down into the darkness below.

  I wonder what’s waiting for us down there, thought Jack, an icy shiver racing down his spine, signalling excitement and danger.

  Lapointe turned to Dupree. ‘Well, this is it,’ he said. ‘Let’s see if this is some kind of practical joke, or something a little more sinister.’

  One by one, they walked down the stairs, careful not to bump their heads against the low ceiling. The small, dark room at the bottom of the stairs was also empty. The floor was paved with uneven bricks covered in moss, making them slippery. Jack walked slowly around the room, running the tips of his fingers along the walls. ‘Here, have a look,’ he said and pointed to some cracks in the brickwork. ‘Looks like an old doorway, bricked up.’

  Lapointe came over, had a look and nodded. Then he turned around and signalled to one of his men holding a sledgehammer. ‘Make a small opening here, but be careful. I want to have a look inside first, before we go any further.’ The man stepped forward and began to swing the heavy hammer. After two strokes, the wall began to crumble and a few bricks fell to the floor. An opening appeared: an ominous-looking dark hole, beckoning into the unknown lurking beyond.

  Holding up his hand, Lapointe walked over to the opening, bent down with his torch and looked inside. Everyone in the room froze and watched, mesmerised.

  This was one of those occasions when time appears to stand still. Seconds can turn into agonising minutes brimming with suspense, when a moment of destiny is about to unfold. Holding his breath, Jack kept watching Lapointe’s face. Illuminated from below by the torchlight accentuating his tense features, the police superintendent’s expression looked like the face of someone who had just glimpsed the unthinkable.

  ‘Stand back! This is a crime scene,’ croaked Lapointe, barely able to speak. ‘Everybody go back upstairs, now!’

  Lapointe turned around and almost bumped into Jack, standing behind him. ‘Well, are you going to tell us what you saw?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Not right now; later. Please go back to your car and wait for me.’

  ‘That bad?’

  ‘I need some time to find the words.’

  Lapointe came out of the house half an hour later and got into the back seat of Dupree’s car. He took off his wet hat and for a long, tense moment just sat there in silence. Then he turned to Bartolli sitting next to him. ‘I owe you an apology, Professor. You too, Dupree.’ Lapointe stared out of the fogged-up car window. ‘You were right all along. Landru couldn’t have done this. Certainly not alone.’

  ‘What’s down there?’ asked Jack.

  ‘A chamber of horrors, the likes of which I haven’t come across in my entire career.’

  ‘Care to elaborate?’

  ‘Later. When we know more.’

  ‘What about Landru?’

  ‘He and the cipher are our best leads. At least for now. I would like you to meet him again, Jack, soon, and tell him what we found. He deserves that. He obviously trusts you. And you too, Professor. I would like you to help us here, if you are prepared to take on the case again and become involved, after all that’s happened.’ Lapointe looked at Bartolli. ‘Please consider it?’

  ‘I will. I don’t like unfinished business.’

  ‘How many?’ asked Dupree.

  ‘I counted six. There could be more.’

  ‘Bodies?’ said Bartolli.

  ‘It’s complicated,’ said Lapointe, sidestepping the question.

  ‘But we had only three murders here in Paris, and that includes Landru’s conviction,’ said Dupree.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘So, what’s next?’ asked Jack. He realised it was pointless trying to get more information out of Lapointe.

  ‘It’s up to Forensics now, the experts. This is huge. All I ask of you is not to talk to the press. We’ll make a formal announcement once we know more. Can I count on you?’

  Everyone agreed.

  ‘That’s about it. I’ll keep you informed. Better go.’

  Here it is again, thought Jack as he watched Lapointe get slowly out of the car, seemingly reluctant to go back inside. The haunted look on Lapointe’s face reminded him of Papadoulis’s expression at Mount Athos, when he had uttered ‘true evil’.

  11

  Fleury-Mérogis Prison, Paris: 7 October

  If Landru was in any way apprehensive or curious about the visit, he certainly didn’t show it. He was confident the address in the cipher would have been investigated straight away, and the site carefully examined by the authorities. He therefore knew that the moment of reckoning had arrived and his entire future depended on what Jack was about to tell him.

  Landru was waiting in the same stark visitors’ room as on the previous occasion, and looked up when Jack and Bartolli entered. Bartolli noticed that he appeared calm and in control, without displaying any emotion, which was surprising in the circumstances.

  ‘We came as soon as we could,’ began Jack. He sat down facing Landru and looked at him through the glass partition. After briefly describing the house and the cellar, he came straight to the point.

  ‘The police attended with a Forensics team and broke down a wall in the cellar revealing a concealed chamber. We were not allowed to stay and therefore didn’t witness any of this firsthand. What I’m about to tell you is based on a briefing by Chief Superintendent Lapointe, who is in charge of this investigation. We met with him yesterday. As you know he was—’

  ‘I know who he is,’ interjected Landru calmly.

  Jack nodded and pulled his little notebook out of his pocket. ‘The briefing was comprehensive with lots of photographs, but we weren’t given any copies. I will therefore do my best to describe what we saw.’

  Jack cleared his throat and opened his notebook.

  ‘In the middle of the chamber stood three sealed metal drums, each about the size of a large wine barrel. Carefully positioned on the floor in front of each drum was what looked like a white plaster death mask. In front of each of the masks was a sealed glass jar. Each jar contained a clear liquid, which turned out to be a potent embalming fluid, with a human ear and an eye floating in it.’

  Jack paused to let this sink in and looked at Landru, who just sat there, motionless and silent. ‘But this wasn’t all,’ he continued. ‘There were three additional death masks in the chamber – all neatly laid out in a row – each with a jar containing an ear and an eye in front of each mask, but without drums or anything else standing near them. Otherwise, the chamber was empty.’ Jack cleared his throat and then continued.

  ‘Initial examination of the contents of the drums found partially dissolved human remains, apparently linked to the two unsolved Paris Death Mask Murder cases, and one other. Sulfuric acid and a cocktail of other chemicals were apparently used. The pathologists believe that the eye and the ear in the jars in front of each drum belong to the respective murder victims in the drums, but this still has to be confirmed. As for the other three jars, investigations are continuing.’

  ‘I think I know who the other four might be,’ said Landru, ‘but not because I was in any way involved in the murders.’

  Jack looked up. ‘You do?’ he asked. ‘How?’

  ‘It’s complicated, but you will find out soon enough,’ came the cryptic reply.

  Jack closed his notebook, exasperation on his face. ‘I think it’s time to put the cards on the table, Monsieur Landru. We are talking about seven connected murders here, only one of which appears to have been solved. The one that has brought you here and landed you in jail. We’ve done everything you asked. I don’t like playing games. It’s time to come clean or we walk away, right now.’

  Landru smiled for the first time. ‘That would be a big mistake.’

  ‘Tell me why.
’

  ‘Before I do, I would like to hear what Professor Bartolli makes of all this.’ Landru looked at Bartolli and ever so slightly raised an eyebrow, signalling a subtle challenge.

  ‘What was found concealed in the cellar has been carefully prepared over a long period,’ began Bartolli, anxious to keep Landru talking. ‘Possibly years, and it was put on display in a very theatrical way. Calculated and precise. Someone went to a lot of trouble to create this scene. It looked like a gruesome exhibition in a house of horrors, but with a quite specific purpose. It was all meant to be found. Each item faced the doorway, for maximum effect, and obviously sends a message, especially the eyes and ears in the jars. No effort has been made to conceal the identities of the bodies involved. On the contrary, the death masks clearly identify the victims, and the body parts left behind will no doubt provide other compelling evidence as to identity. DNA …’

  ‘What does all this tell you about the perpetrator, or perpetrators, should there be more than one?’ said Landru. ‘As an experienced profiler, you must have formed a view.’

  ‘Without knowing more about the victims and the circumstances of their murders, I am missing one critical element in my analysis. And the whole cipher issue is an added, rather baffling complication. However, what I can say with confidence is that none of this fits any specific pattern of criminal behaviour. This is all outside the textbook. There is no obvious motive to start with, which is always a problem. The police believe that the victims appear to have been chosen at random, yet there seems to be a clear underlying purpose to all this: a carefully prepared plan. The question is, what kind of plan and to what end?’

  ‘Very good,’ said Landru. ‘I think you are absolutely right so far, except for motive. The motive is in fact very clear and precise, but understandably, you couldn’t possibly know this.’

  ‘But you do?’ asked Bartolli.

  ‘Yes. Once again, it’s complicated.’

  ‘Can you tell us?’

  ‘One thing life in prison with its mindless routine gives you in abundance, is time to think. I’ve had plenty of time in here over the years to do just that, and I believe that I have used that time well. I have something to offer both of you,’ said Landru. ‘I believe it’s an opportunity of a lifetime.’

  ‘How so?’ said Bartolli, looking at Landru with interest. To her, he was quickly turning into a fascinating subject, worthy of study. Landru had sensed this and decided to capitalise on it.

  ‘For you, Professor, this could become the most significant case of your entire career. And I don’t say that lightly or flippantly. A groundbreaking case for textbooks and lectures, which students and experts alike will talk about for years to come. Not to mention the impact on your reputation ...’ added Landru, lowering his voice as he threw out the bait.

  Landru turned to face Jack sitting opposite. ‘What I can offer you, Mr Rogan, is something quite different: should I be able to persuade you to become more closely involved and take the next step in this saga, you will soon be drawn into one of the biggest adventure stories of your life. Bigger than Isis and the murder of her parents, bigger than finding the Ottoman recipes and saving the pope’s life, and bigger than rescuing the genius Professor Stolzfus from the deadly clutches of that South American drug cartel, just to name a few.’

  ‘You have obviously read all of my books,’ said Jack.

  ‘I have, and that’s one of the reasons I turned to you with this in the first place. You are the only man I can think of who could rise to the challenge and pull off what it may take to solve this extraordinary case. Your recent Russian adventures have made that clear to me. You have the mindset, the intellect and, most important of all, the curiosity. You thrive on a challenge and never give up. But there is more to all this, much, much more ...’

  ‘Care to elaborate? I need more,’ said Jack, impressed by Landru’s tenacity and arguments.

  ‘All in good time. Another thing prison life has taught me is patience. And patience can be very rewarding and could go a long way here, as you could soon find out, Mr Rogan. It’s up to you.’

  He’s playing cat and mouse, thought Bartolli, watching Landru carefully. Very clever.

  ‘Give me at least something. Last time, you mentioned the Black Widow, and you also mentioned Mademoiselle Darrieux. Are you suggesting that they are somehow connected to all this?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ said Landru, pleased to see that the conversation was heading in the right direction.

  ‘How?’

  ‘That too is complicated and will take time to explain, but I have put certain procedures in motion that will do just that.’

  ‘More riddles,’ said Jack, shaking his head.

  ‘Patience, please! Hear me out. I believe that I have worked out who has committed all these murders, and I also know why. What I don’t know is on whose behalf they were committed. That would be for you to find out because it may be the only way to solve this deadly riddle. I also believe I know why this bizarre display has been left behind for us to find, and the role of the cipher in all of this. You see, there’s a much bigger picture here than meets the eye. This story started a long time ago. It was handed from generation to generation, and the last chapter hasn’t been written yet.’

  For the first time, Landru became somewhat agitated. The conversation was entering critical territory.

  ‘Let’s take this one step at a time,’ said Jack. ‘When and where did the story begin?’

  ‘On sixteen November 1532, in the Inca city of Cajamarca,’ came the reply.

  ‘Are you serious?’ said Bartolli, looking exasperated. ‘How can you possibly be so precise?’

  ‘That’s the date Atahualpa, the last Inca king, was murdered by Pizarro,’ said Jack.

  Landru looked impressed. ‘Very good. I knew you were the right man for this.’

  ‘Next question. What’s the role of the cipher in all this? You said you knew,’ continued Jack, ignoring the compliment.

  ‘I was set up and sent to prison for a murder I didn’t commit. That happened for a reason. I was desperately trying to get out of an arrangement I was trapped in. It was like living in a cage with no way out. I was a hopeless drug addict by then. Heading for a nervous breakdown, doing irrational things. I had to be silenced because I had become a danger to—’

  ‘A danger to whom?’ interjected Bartolli.

  ‘Later.’

  ‘Here we go again.’ Jack waved dismissively.

  ‘Patience. By putting me away, the investigation into the Death Mask Murders was closed. The authorities hinted that I was responsible for all the Paris Death Mask Murders, despite the fact they couldn’t prove it. The similarities were just too great, they argued. After that, I was effectively silenced and locked away for good. The public could feel safe again, and the police had what they wanted. Case closed. But by doing that, the quest came to a sudden halt.’

  ‘What quest?’

  ‘I have been on a quest for more than thirty years. My entire career, no, my entire life revolved around that quest. Still does. You of all people would understand what that means, Mr Rogan. You yourself were involved in something not dissimilar ... the Ark of the Covenant?’

  ‘Can you elaborate?’

  ‘Later.’

  Jack shook his head.

  ‘The cipher was given to me in order to reignite the quest, and by cracking the code, I did just that. And you, Mr Rogan, helped me do it. It was in one of your books! Serendipity. You would call it destiny.’

  ‘This is crazy!’ said Jack.

  ‘Far from it. It’s ingenious, as you will see in a moment. The cipher has guided us to that chamber of horrors as you called it, and as soon as the police release a statement about that – which they will – it will send a signal that the code has been broken, and the quest is back on. For certain parties watching, this will mean a great deal. That was the purpose of that chamber of horrors. One of them. There’s another, more important purpose.’


  ‘What purpose?’ said Bartolli.

  Landru took his time before replying. ‘My release,’ he said after a while. ‘Once carefully examined and analysed, the objects in that chamber will make it clear that I am innocent and couldn’t possibly have been the serial killer they portrayed me to be, and it will cast serious doubt over my conviction. It is, therefore, only a matter of time before I’m released. My lawyers are very confident. And once that happens, those who are behind all this know that I will resume the quest that I embarked upon such a long time ago.’

  ‘What quest?’ asked Jack.

  Landru took a deep breath and looked intently at Jack. ‘To find the legendary Inca treasure of the Llanganates,’ he whispered.

  ‘The enormous hoard of gold and other treasures assembled for Atahualpa’s ransom, but hidden by one of his generals deep within the Llanganates Mountains after the king was murdered?’ said Jack.

  ‘You are well informed.’

  ‘This is fantasy, surely,’ scoffed Jack. ‘Shrouded in legend.’

  ‘Not at all. The treasure exists and I almost found out where it is, but I was missing a vital clue. That’s where Malenkova comes into play, you see, and that’s how I cracked the code. And they will once again be right there, watching my every step, I’m sure of that.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Those who are behind all this. Those who arranged all the murders while staying in the shadows, and spent a fortune covering their tracks. Just as in the Stolzfus matter,’ added Landru quietly, dropping the first clue.

  ‘The Stolzfus case? What could that possibly have to do with this?’

  ‘You will find out in due course.’

  ‘Are you suggesting this matter and the Stolzfus case have something in common?’

  ‘Yes. And that’s another reason why we were destined to meet, you and I, and are now destined to join forces.’

  ‘Why should I believe you?’ Jack almost shouted.

  ‘Because of who you are! Because I know you want to find out.’